


A Transit of Venus

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, Complete, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Smut, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Neediness, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romantic Soulmates, Some Plot, Wing Kink, astronomical references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-01-21 07:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21295592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: Every transit of Venus, angels go into heat.Dean helps Castiel through it the only way he knows how - with love.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 340





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write a Cas-going-into-heat fic. 
> 
> Astronomically speaking, this should be set in June 2012, during the last transit of Venus. However, it can be set anytime your heart desires. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Dean’s eyes were burning into him as he fumbled with his button-down, and Castiel could feel the heat reaching its peak within him, spiraling so far out of his control that he was sure nothing would ever be the same again. The tapestry of his life was coming undone, tearing at the seams as he forced himself to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Be very sure,” he said to the other.

The air between them was thick with the scent of jasmine and myrrh, and Dean breathed deeply of it. “I’m sure,” Dean answered, licking his lips and taking a slow step towards his angel. He wasn’t sure when Castiel had become ‘his,’ but there was no more denying the chemistry that had been crackling between them for far too long. “But Cas-”

“Yes?” Castiel answered, voice little more than a rough, gravelly whisper. Dean could see just how close he was to breaking, and as much as he wanted to see his angel fly apart, he needed to say his piece first.

“I just need you to know... I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m not doing it out of any obligation. I’m not even doing it because I’m your friend. I’m doing it...” He paused, licking his lips. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

Then Castiel was in his arms, smelling like Heaven, lips finding Dean’s. If there was a world beyond that room, neither of them cared to know.


	2. A Transit of Venus

It all began with a feeling of general unease, the kind that usually preceded times of great change.

“Do angels get colds?” Dean had asked, that first day, when Castiel himself still hadn’t been sure what was happening until Dean had insisted on fussing over him and taking his temperature.

Then he’d whistled, and announced grimly that if Castiel were human, he’d most likely be dead.

With a fever of 110 degrees, Dean had been right. Angels ran hot, but there was only one thing that could produce such a prodigious temperature – he was going into heat.

Among angels, Castiel would not have had much trouble finding a mate for such an occasion, but he was so far fallen from Heaven’s graces that returning home was simply not an option.

So he did the only thing he could think of – he spent the next two days carving sigils into every pair of the numerous and varied leather restraints he’d found in the Bunker’s arsenal, gathering holy oil and warding his room.

On the fourth day, Castiel went to Dean with the items he’d need in a discrete box.

“I need...” Castiel’s words died in his throat when he saw that Dean had come into the war room after a shower, and had neglected to put his shirt on. “I need your help,” he finished quietly, casting his eyes to the ground.

“Sure,” Dean answered. “Anything I can do for you, just name it.”

Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut. What he needed – what he truly needed – he had not words enough to ask for, so he simply presented the box to Dean and waited for the human to open it.

Dean was silent for a long moment. “Cas?” He asked, breath catching in his throat.

The angel couldn’t stand the uncertainty in Dean’s voice. His words came too fast, spilling out of him in a deluge of mumbled excuses and poorly phrased explanations.

“Woah, Cas,” Dean said, holding his hands out in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. “I’m going to need you to slow down just a little bit, buddy, okay?” He moved to lead Cas down into a chair, but the angel couldn’t stand the warmth of the hunter’s hands on his shoulders, and jerked away from the touch as if it burned.

Growling low in his throat, Castiel took a seat, turned to Dean, and bit out the words, “I’m going into heat. It happens to all angels. Not often. It corresponds with a planetary alignment. It’s called a transit of Venus, and every time it comes around, we...” He couldn’t make himself finish his sentence. Michael, as Heaven’s commander in God’s absence, had called the time of transits ‘unclean,’ said it was a sin to have such desires, and instructed those under his reign to take preventative measures, such as the ones he’d just provided Dean.

“Yes?” Dean prompted. He sat down next to Cas, and though the angel had difficulty processing the proximity, he grudgingly allowed it. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need,” he said, so gently that Cas felt like crawling into his arms and sobbing until the time of the transit was over.

“The alignment makes us susceptible to more... Carnal desires.” Castiel’s face felt like it was on fire, and he could see that even Dean was blushing.

“So, what, do we hire someone to help or...” Dean’s voice trailed off into oblivion.

“It’s not that simple,” Castiel confessed. “It needs to be someone I’m...” He forced himself to say the words, despite the way they stuck in his throat. “Someone I’m already bonded with.”

“Oh.” Dean’s mouth formed a perfect little ‘o,’ driving Castiel halfway to distraction, but he was so distraught that he managed to gather his thoughts.

“Yes, exactly,” Castiel growled. “Which is why I need someone to bind me. I’ve already warded my room. The holy oil probably isn’t necessary, but... Just in case... I... I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” The last words came out so quietly that Dean wasn’t sure he heard them.

It seemed as if the world had tilted too far on its axis, too fast. The room was spinning around Dean – and he reached for Cas, slowly, in the same manner one would approach a timid animal they wished to tame, but Castiel was having none of it and exploded out of his seat.

“Can’t you see this is the only way?” The angel asked, a tinge of desperation coloring his voice.

A flicker of hurt crossed Dean’s face like a thundercloud. “You sound very sure about that.”

Hope flared bright and brilliant in Castiel’s chest. “Do you mean...?” He held the spark close to his heart, then let it fade away as Dean’s silence stretched out between them, answer enough in its own right.

Surely, that fragile, fleeting hope had been the heat talking through him, revealing his desires, the ones he’d kept hidden away and denied for the past years of his existence. The day of transit was tomorrow. He wasn’t thinking straight.

“I mean,” Dean said, approaching Cas once more, “That I want to help. I mean, really help. Not just...” He gestured towards the box, restraints spilling out of it haphazardly. “Not just lock you up and let you suffer.”

Their eyes met. They were close; close enough to touch. And how Castiel wanted to reach out and take Dean in his arms, ravish him with nimble fingers and a quick tongue, take him apart and put him back together again.

He shook his head. “Dean, you know that I care for you a great deal.” It was the most rational thing he’d said in a while, and Castiel was about to congratulate himself for it when Dean made a low, keening sound like the words had grown edges and cut into him. “I... I love you,” he corrected.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, stepping into his space – and, oh, how right it felt to close the distance between them – “If this is just the heat talking... If this is some crazy angel thing that’s going to be done the moment the transit is done...” Dean brushed back a stray lock of hair from Castiel’s forehead. “I will still help you, but it would break my heart.”

“Dean,” Castiel said, loving the cadence of the hunter’s name upon his lips. “I should have told you sooner. I should have told you years ago, when I first learned what love is.” He shook his head mournfully. “My brethren were right. The moment I laid a hand on you in Hell, I was lost.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, and Castiel laid a gentle palm on his cheek, biding him to meet his eyes once more. “But I found something so much better,” he said, once Dean had opened his eyes. “You have showed me that there is true light in this world. That in Heaven, I was just watching the shadows. You saved me from an eternity of mindlessly following orders and believing in beings that did not deserve for me to put my stead in them.”

“Can I kiss you?” Dean asked, voice rough with want.

Castiel drew away. “The time of the transit is not until tomorrow at sundown, and last until dawn. I fear I may not be able to control myself if I...” Dean stole the words from his mouth as he leaned in to kiss the angel’s forehead, so gently and so lovingly that Castiel felt something well up inside him, some burgeoning emotion he had not words enough to name, nor strength enough to ask what it meant.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at sunset,” he whispered, soaking in Dean’s presence; basking in it while he still could. “I must prepare. And... If you change your mind...” His eyes fell upon the box; Dean’s gaze followed.

“I won’t,” the hunter promised.

And then Castiel was flying, back to his own room and his lonely bed and his warded walls and the heat rising steadily within him, threatening to burn him from the inside out.

The time of the transit was nearly upon them.


	3. An Occultation of Regulus

There were many preparations Castiel needed to make in the space between now and sundown tomorrow – and time itself seemed to expand and contract in various intervals. He’d look up from taking what he thought was a brief shower to find an hour had passed, and then he’d stare at the clock with singular focus as the seconds stretched out into eternity.

Tomorrow night could not come soon enough. He was already starting to feel the low ache of desire in his wings and in his loins, and his clothing was beginning to feel too tight in several places.

He found his hands wandering down the length of his abdomen, seeking out the relief that only Dean could give him. It would be a futile exercise in frustration to seek to release the aching want growing inside of him; no angel was able to break a heat on their own in such a fashion. Only time could douse the flames of this fiery yearning.

Dean could help, of course. His need would grow during the transit, reaching a peak somewhere near midnight. It would have been excruciating to wait it out without any assistance. Giving into to those desires was the easiest and fastest way to rid oneself of the heat. Having sex, or making love, whatever one wished to call it, was the least painful way to spend the time of transit.

Of course... There was always the chance that Dean would change his mind.

Somewhere along the way, he began to wonder if that was, indeed, the fate that awaited him. If the man he loved would decide that it was too much of a risk to share his heart and bare his soul in such a way. If Dean truly believed that his earlier words had been insincere and brought about only by the transit...

Castiel shook his head. It wouldn’t do to think of such things. He still had work to do. His wings needed to be preened and prepared to present to his mate – and the thought that Dean was now his mate, or would be soon, sent a giddy thrill down his spine.

So he set to work, visions of Dean swimming in the periphery of his vision as he gathered his oil and spread it across his feathers, so sensitive now that the transit approached. He thought about the night they met, and all the times they’d fought, both against and besides one another. He thought of how beautiful Dean’s soul had been, and how it had called to him, that day in Hell, that glorious, glorious day when he had been able to sing out to all the Heavens that the Righteous Man was saved by his hand.

He began at the base of his wings and worked his way out. Every touch was torture. He felt his cock harden in his pants, and willed it away to no avail. It was too soon for such things; he’d been hoping to hold out until dawn at least.

But alas, by the time he was done, he was burning with a strange mixture of shame and desire. He wanted Dean, wanted him with such fervor that it took him by surprise. He needed the other, needed all of him – from his lips to his hands to his cock.

Castiel’s mind began to wander, and he was lost in a haze of thoughts so filthy they were nothing short of sin. He wanted, he needed – so badly it was beginning to hurt.

By the time morning’s light had broken, Castiel felt raw, as if some great force had hollowed him out and set fire to what remained.

An hour passed, then another. Still, he waited.

Time passed so slowly that Castiel was half-convinced the clock was broken, but somewhere between his fevered wonderings about whether Dean would still help him and trying to corral his mind from wandering towards other aspects of Dean’s anatomy, he fell asleep, and did not wake until an hour before sundown, at which point he tugged off his tie, letting it tumble onto the bed. He stripped down to just his shirt and pants, and even they felt oppressive against his skin.

Sighing, Castiel took one look at the warding, saying a quick prayer that it would not be needed after all. Then he steeled himself, and began the journey towards where he knew he would find Dean.

He was as ready as he was ever going to be.


	4. Mars in Opposition

Castiel fumbled with his button-down.

“Be very sure,” he said in greeting.

The look in Dean’s eyes was enough to send butterflies tumbling through his stomach.

“I’m sure,” Dean said, looking very much like he wanted to say more. “But Cas-”

“Yes?” Castiel answered, voice breaking. This was it. This was where Dean was going to change his mind.

Dean moved closer. “I just need you to know... I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m not doing it out of any obligation. I’m not even doing it because I’m your friend. I’m doing it...” He stopped in place. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

Castiel couldn’t bear the weight of those words alone, so he flung himself at Dean, landing in his arms and pressing against him, trying to convey the depths of his need and the heights of his passion.

“Woah there,” Dean whispered, voice husky. “Let’s get you out of those clothes first.” When Castiel’s hands moved to do just that, Dean stopped him. “Let me,” he said, voice heavy with emotion.

Cas stared at him like a deer in the headlights for a moment, then nodded.

“Okay,” he agreed. He didn’t trust himself to say much more.

Dean’s hands made quick work of his shirt, but they faltered along the seam of Castiel’s pants. “You know,” he said, amusement leaking into his voice, “I have dreamt about this so many times that it’s hard to believe it’s happening.”

Castiel kissed him for good measure, and Dean moaned against his lips. The angel basked in the sound, and decided it was his new mission in life to hear it as often as possible. “Hurry,” he bade Dean. “Please,” he added.

Then Dean was unzipping him, and some of the pressure was relieved. Castiel groaned at the feeling, and bucked against Dean. “I need-” He began, but Dean cut him off with another plundering kiss. Their lips parted, and Dean did something clever with his tongue that had Castiel whimpering.

“I know,” Dean said when they pulled away, looking more disheveled than Cas had ever seen him. “Let me take care of you, angel.”

Even as he disentangled himself from Dean, Castiel lamented the distance between them. He arranged himself on the bed as alluringly as he knew how to, and it seemed to work, for Dean moved to follow. Cas held up a hand, and tried to focus on something, anything, beside the heat rising within him. It required concentration to manifest his wings, and he knew he’d succeeded when Dean’s gasp reverberated around the room, music to his ears.

“Oh, angel,” he whispered, voice reverent. A lopsided grin made its way onto his lips, and he asked, “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”

Castiel was emboldened by the heat. “Come and find out,” he bid his lover.

The human man didn’t miss a beat, climbing onto the bed, straddling Castiel in a way that sent little sparks of pleasure racing through them both, and reaching out to stroke one wing, so gently that Castiel let out a little keening sound that was so beautiful and that Dean couldn’t resist leaning forward to kiss him once more.

“Gonna make you feel so good, angel,” Dean said, cradling Castiel’s head in his hands as if it were made of porcelain. “I’ve waited so long for you. Wanted you so bad for so long...”

Castiel found his hand and held it close to his chest. “Me too,” he confessed. “I- I didn’t know how to tell you. Or... Or even if you felt the same.” He turned his head away, ashamed of the words, but Dean gently guided him back until their eyes once again met.

“Don’t hide from me, angel. Please,” Dean whispered. “I love you,” he said for the second time that night. “And I have for a long, long time.”

Castiel nodded desperately, clinging to the words like a lifeline.

When Dean shifted positions on top of Castiel, the angel cried out as their hips found each other’s. He was painfully hard, and from what he could feel, Dean was right there with him.

“You like that, huh?” Dean whispered.

Castiel’s wings flapped gently in agreement, and Dean smiled.

“Are these as sensitive as they look?” He asked, hovering one hand above each wing.

Nodding, Castiel pressed his wings into Dean’s hands, and groaned at the contact.

Dean was entranced as he explored Castiel’s wings, finding which spots drew the best reactions from his angel. His own need was growing, but Castiel looked positively desperate. It was a good look on him, Dean decided.

“Please,” Castiel said after a while of this, bucking his hips in what he hoped was instruction enough.

“Please what, angel? I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.” Dean knew exactly what Castiel needed, but he also wanted to know just how far he could go.

Growling, Cas answered, “Suck me. Fuck me. Anything. Everything. _Please_.”

“Fuck,” Dean cursed, burying one hand in Castiel’s hair and tugging gently, forcing the other to look at him. He tugged on the other’s underwear, and Castiel lifted his hips to expedite the process of their removal. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he said as Castiel’s cock slapped against his stomach, already hard and leaking precum.

“Please,” Cas repeated. “Need you so bad.”

Dean took him in hand, and it felt so perfect that Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Look at me,” Dean pleaded, voice low and so full of need that the angel could not help but comply.

Dean shimmied down the length of Castiel’s body until his mouth was level with the other’s cock. He breathed in deeply, and the scent of myrrh and jasmine once again filled his lungs. “Fuck, angel, you smell so good,” he whispered, lips brushing against the head of Castiel’s cock.

His angel whimpered, and Dean couldn’t stand the thought of making him wait any longer, and let Cas’ cock slide past his lips, giving it a tentative suckle. He wasn’t quite prepared for what happened next, but managed not to choke as Cas slid all the way home, and relished how warm and heavy it was in his mouth.

He drew away for just a moment before starting to bob his head, eyes meeting Castiel’s once more.  


“Dean,” Cas moaned. “Dean, Dean, Dean,” he chanted, voice like a prayer.

Humming his agreement, Dean’s hands found Castiel’s wings, nimble fingers digging deep and finding every sensitive spot that set his wings on fire.

Cas started to thrash upon the sheets, freeing them from the edges of the bed and tangling them under them. “Dean, I’m-” was all the warning he managed to utter before he was coming hard and fast into the other’s mouth, a strangled shout cutting off his words.

Dean was surprised when the taste of honeysuckle flooded his mouth, and swallowed it greedily, giving Cas one last little suckle before pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, face hot with shame.

Dean silenced him with a kiss, sharing the sweet taste with his angel. “Shh. Don’t apologize. Not for this.”

Cas nodded, grateful, and fell back limply on the bed. “The heat... It’s faded. For the moment.” He closed his eyes. “It’ll be back soon. It’ll be stronger.” He turned his face away, but Dean was having none of it, and guided him back to reality.

“It’s ok,” Dean assured him. “I’m here. I’m here.”

And then he held Cas, heedless of his own need. As they waited for the heat to return, their hands found each other’s, Dean pressing occasional little kisses along his angel’s collar bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come later in the week.


	5. Saturn in Conjunction

It took Castiel a few minutes to catch his breath, during which he found himself nestled in Dean’s arms, the other being careful not to hurt his wings.

“You’re still dressed,” he noted with dismay.

“Shh, don’t worry about me,” Dean whispered in his ear, sending shivers down the length of his spine.

The words only served to make Castiel more determined to see Dean out of his clothes. He began pawing at the other’s shirt, prompting a chuckle from Dean, who stilled Castiel’s hand by wrapping long fingers around the angel’s wrists.

“Let me,” he said, standing.

What followed next was nothing short of a strip tease – at least in Castiel’s mind, though he hadn’t watched enough of those to know if they were truly as mesmerizing as watching Dean disrobe.

By the time Dean was finished with his shirt, unceremoniously tossing it onto the floor, Castiel was back to full hardness.

“Already?” Dean asked, seeming at once amused and a little worried.

The angel frowned down at himself, and one wing twitched to cover himself. “The transit... It’s...”

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean said, approaching the bed, clad in just his jeans. The sight of his smooth, chiseled chest made Castiel’s breath catch in his throat. “Don’t hide from me.”

Tentatively, he flapped his wing away, and arranged himself into a less dignified position. Dean seemed to revel in it for a moment before fumbling with the fly of his pants and freeing his belt from its notch with shaking fingers.

Once his pants were on the floor, he kicked them like they’d offended him with their very presence, and climbed back onto the bed.

“Can I...” The words caught in Dean’s throat.

Nodding, Cas smiled a wicked little smile. “Fuck me,” he growled.

“Where did you learn to talk like that, angel?” Dean asked, half-jokingly.

Castiel blushed. “I may have figured out how to use the ‘search history’ feature of the Google.”

And Dean couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing, earning him a gentle slap from Castiel’s wing.

“Hey, I’m serious,” Cas said, crossing his arms over his chest, his face adorably petulant.

“I know you are,” Dean said, when he could breathe again. “Which is why it’s so funny.”

Cas smiled, and was about to laugh when a wave of need came over him, stronger than anything he’d felt since the last transit. “Dean,” he growled, voice rough with sheer want.

Dean’s eyes focused in on him, and the hunter reached over his angel to retrieve the lubricant from the night table.

Cas, understanding what came next, spread his legs to provide Dean with better access.

Pouring a generous amount onto his fingers, Dean caressed Castiel’s hole, slipping one finger in once the angel had relaxed into his touch, then another, and another, until Cas was bucking into his touch and saying his name like a swear word.

“Dean,” Cas moaned, drawing out the final consonant until it rumbled in his chest. “Please,” he pleaded, eyes watering from the feel of it. Everything felt too good, and colors seemed to bloom brighter, now that the time of transit was fast-approaching, and it was all too much. “Please,” he repeated.

“Need to get you ready, Cas,” Dean admonished gently. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please, I’m ready,” Cas answered. When the other just kept working his fingers in and out, in and out, in a rhythm that was slowly becoming torturous, Cas snarled, “Dean Winchester, so help me-”

Dean withdrew his fingers and got in position above his angel, secretly pleased to find he was _very_ flexible.

“You ready, angel?”

“So ready for you, Dean,” Cas whimpered. “Need you inside me,” he added, when Dean hesitated for the slightest of seconds. And then he was being filled, and it was beautiful and perfect and he relished the feeling of Dean slipping past his most sacred borders, breaking down every barrier that had kept them apart these past years. “Dean,” he said, but it was little more than a breathy whisper. “So good,” he breathed. “You feel so good.” He threw his head back and moaned, long and low and lilting.

Dean began to move inside him, and Castiel had to bite back a shout.

“Don’t hold back,” Dean whispered, breath tickling the other’s neck. “We’re the only ones home. I made sure of that.”

Castiel flushed at the thought of Sam, who hadn’t factored much into his own planning, and was suddenly grateful beyond words. He was about to thank Dean, but then the other began thrusting in earnest and Castiel found himself beyond words.

He cried out, and when Dean found that special spot deep inside him, his wings began to flutter, his body trembling from the too-good, too-much feeling of Dean moving inside of him, in and out, in and out, until Castiel could take no more. His wings went stock-still and he spilt once more, a warm wetness flooding the space between them.

Dean felt Cas come around him, the other’s walls fluttering madly, and Dean almost followed him straight over the edge, but was determined to make this last.

“Don’t stop,” Castiel bade him, his wings coming to surround Dean as his orgasm passed, and their gentle touch all along his back had Dean shivering.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gritted out, eyes finding Castiel’s. “My perfect angel.”

“Yours,” Castiel agreed, and the words were enough to have Dean shuddering through his own release, hands scrabbling at Castiel’s chest, a hoarse shout finding its way past his lips.

He was careful not to lean too heavily on the angel’s wings as he withdrew, and smiled slightly at the mess he’d made of Castiel. The other’s hair was utterly disheveled, and the rest of him didn’t look much better.

“Come on, angel,” Dean said, offering a hand to Castiel. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming hopefully this weekend. 
> 
> Let me know what you think~


	6. Interlude

In the shower, it was all Castiel could do to keep his hands off of Dean. He found them wandering at inconvenient times, like when Dean was reaching for the soap, which fell, prompting an eye-roll and a joke about ‘dropping the soap’ which went straight over the angel’s head.

“Cas,” Dean said after a while of this. “Calm down. Pace yourself,” he said, as gently as possible.

The angel deflated on himself. Without his wings, which he’d temporarily made incorporeal, he looked rather like a sad, wet puppy that had been left out in the rain.

Sighing, Dean relented. “Tell me what you need,” he said, reaching for the other, but Cas was quicker and evaded him. The shower was large enough that he could sulk rather comfortably away from the spray of the water, but Dean followed him, and took his face in his hands.

They were both dripping with water and covered in suds, and Castiel loved how beautiful Dean looked in the half-light of the bathroom. “I know how difficult this must be for you,” the hunter began. “But we’ll get through this,” he promised. “Together.”

Cas nodded. “Together.”


	7. Total Eclipse

By the time Dean had cleaned them both up, dried himself off and guided the still slightly-damp, towel clad angel back to bed, Castiel was burning with heat once more. It was an all-consuming need that built in his loins and spiraled outwards until he was subsumed. He could think of nothing else but how badly he wanted Dean and how much he wanted to ravage and be ravaged by him.

He whimpered as Dean laid down next to him, gathering the angel in his arms and giving him a tentative smile, then a chaste kiss that had Castiel desperate for more.

“I need-”

Dean silenced him with a finger, the pad of it soft against Castiel’s chapped lips. “I know,” he said. “I know.” His free hand moved to take Castiel in hand, the shock of it forcing a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob from the angel’s lips. His eyes fluttered shut, and he bucked into Dean’s hand, once, twice, thrice, until Dean pulled away.

“Wha-” Castiel slurred, voice thick with desire. “_Dean_,” he whispered pleadingly.

“Patience is a virtue,” Dean said, and Castiel was about to say something rude about virtue itself when Dean’s hand came back, warm and slick and perfect. “You’re going to be sore in the morning if we don’t do this the right way,” he explained.

Castiel pressed his forehead into Dean’s shoulder. “This isn’t my first Transit, Dean,” he said, and regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth, for Dean tensed beside him, his strokes growing sloppier. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” Dean said, though it was clear from the hurt in his voice that it wasn’t really.

Castiel forced himself to focus despite the feeling of Dean’s hand sliding over his cock, up and down, up and down, warm and wet and oh-so-wonderful.

“Dean.... It’s different, with you. I... I wanted you, even before the transit. I’ve wanted this practically since I’ve met you, and I – I love you, and-”

“It’s alright,” Dean said, voice softer, now. “I understand.”

Castiel wasn’t sure that he did, and there was so much he wanted to say in that moment, so much he wanted to convey, but words escaped him. He leaned in to kiss Dean instead, the other’s hand still working him to completion, the heat peaking inside of him until he was right there on the very edge of oblivion.

Dean did something clever with his hand and Cas came with a shout, moaning into Dean’s mouth and arching into his touch.

“Dean,” Castiel said, sounding wrecked. There was still over an hour left until midnight. Things would only get worse from here, and he needed the other to understand.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, meeting Castiel’s eyes, searching them for answers to questions he didn’t have the strength to ask.

“Things used to be different in Heaven. Better. But you know that it’s not exactly the paradise a lot of people make it out to be.” He sighed. “Michael... He forbid ‘fraternization.’ Even during Transits.”

“You mean-”

“I mean, this is the first Transit in two thousand years that hasn’t felt like torture. The planet’s don’t align often, but everyone upstairs dreaded the days they did.”

“That’s terrible,” Dean said, feeling vaguely sick at the thought of the angel across from him – _his_ angel – suffering through two thousand years of Michael’s reign.

Castiel shrugged. “It was what it was. Now I’m yours,” he said with such conviction that he surprised even himself. The heat and the need were already coming back, but he forced himself to stay focused. “So please, let the past remain behind us. Tonight is all that matters.”

“What about tomorrow?” Dean said, so quietly Castiel barely heard the words.

Castiel smiled gently. “Tomorrow, when the sun rises and the transit is done, we’ll wake up beside one another in this bed and I will tell you how much I love you until you believe me, and I won’t stop telling you so long as you may live.”

“I’d like that,” Dean said, smiling coyly.

“Me too,” Castiel agreed, leaning to steal another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little something to brighten up your Friday~ 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	8. Earthshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot makes a brief appearance. #gasp

At some point, Dean insisted on going to the kitchen.

Castiel was very much dismayed with the prospect of being without him, but allowed it after Dean promised to hurry.

A knock sounded on the door, and Castiel startled so badly his wings manifested, and when Dean entered to find him perched on the bed, wings cocked, he raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“I thought you were Sam,” Castiel confessed.

“I told you we were the only ones home,” he laughed as Castiel flopped back down onto the bed. “And anyway, I have snacks.”

Castiel raised his head at the thought of nourishment. The Transit made him more susceptible to hunger as well.

“You’re going to need your stamina. We both are,” Dean said, and Castiel had the distinct impression he would have been wagging his finger at him like a doting headmaster had his arms not been full of snacks.

“Here,” he said, setting them on the bed. “Eat up.”

Together, they demolished two bags of chips, a half a container of chocolate-covered pretzels, and a tub of cookies.

Once they’d eaten their fill, Dean smiled up at Castiel, a hint of mischief in his eyes that had Castiel on edge.

“Here’s how this is gonna work, angel,” Dean said. “I’ll hold you and make you comfortable, but you, mister-” Now came the finger wagging. “You are going to wait until midnight for me to touch you. Hopefully by then I’ll be able to fill you up and make you feel good.” The dirty talk didn’t come easily to him, and a slight flush colored his face.

Castiel began to pout. “But Dean-”

“Like I said. You are going to be very sore in the morning if we keep this up. I can’t hurt you, angel. I just can’t...” His voice trailed off.

Castiel nodded in understanding. “It’s alright, Dean. I accept your challenge.” He tucked his wings away so Dean could cuddle him.

“It wasn’t-” Dean began, before thinking better of it. “Well, then. Game on.” His face momentarily lost some of its mirth. “I don’t know much about these Transits, but if you need to tap out...”

Castiel nodded, but his explorations into Dean’s search history hadn’t been exactly been a complete and comprehensive sexual education. The term was unfamiliar to him, something Dean grasped intuitively.

“If it gets too much and you don’t think you can take it anymore, just say the word and I will give you everything and anything you need.”

Castiel smiled. “Of course, Dean.” He shifted uncomfortably, his need already making itself known, but the contentment that washed over him when Dean wrapped his arms around him momentarily surpassed all else.

“So,” Dean said, breath tickling the skin of Castiel’s neck and shoulder. “Tell me something...”

“Anything,” Castiel said, feeling emboldened by the heat.

Dean chuckled softly, but other than that, he was silent for so long that Castiel began to fear that whatever Dean wanted to ask would shift the delicate balance they’d found tonight, in this bed, in the shower, in each other’s arms.

“Tell me when you fell in love with me,” Dean breathed out.

Castiel let out a sigh of relief. “That’s easy. I-” He paused. “In Hell, I saw your soul, and I knew it in my own, because I saw myself mirrored in you. Your pain, your sacrifice. Your family. And I knew... I knew that great change had presented it unto me. But that wasn’t when I loved you first.”

Dean hummed and shifted slightly in an effort to make them both more comfortable.

“The night we met, I saw you for the first time in the flesh. I saw your pain, and my heart broke for you. But that wasn’t love, either. It wasn’t until I saw you choosing free will over destiny that I began to feel something I couldn’t explain. And it wasn’t until I rebelled for you that I found the words enough and room enough in my heart to know that what I was feeling was love.”

Castiel found himself breathing heavily by the time he was finished. He felt like he was coming undone, everything he’d known about himself and Dean and their unspoken agreement to stay out of each other’s ‘personal space’ and suppress their feelings for one another. “Tell _me_ something,” he demanded.

“Yes?” Dean answered.

“You didn’t hesitate to help me when I told you about the Transit. Why? Why have we been dancing around each other for so long? I saw myself in you, Dean, and I saw your soul, and I knew that you loved me as much as I loved you, first as a savior, then as a friend, and then as something more. I’m just wondering why you never said anything.”

Dean breathed in, then out. “That’s a fair question,” he decided. “I... I couldn’t. I don’t remember seeing you in Hell. But that night in the warehouse... I _knew_ you. And I loved you. And you were the most perfect being I’d ever borne witness to, and your wings...” Dean buried his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck. “I loved you then. But I ruin every godforsaken thing I touch, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to you. But then this Transit came, and I couldn’t _not_ help.” A noise that was half laugh and half sob escaped his lips. “I know how selfish this is, but I knew I’d get everything I ever wanted, for this one night at least. I’d get to see you. Know you. All of you. And you know I’m not the praying type. But I am praying that this lasts.”

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel breathed. “I...” He wasn’t quite sure what to say in the wake of that confession. “I love you. I have for a long time, now, and I always will, and I swear to you that I will still be here in the morning and every day after that.”

“Promise?” Dean whispered.

“I promise. I swear on all that is holy in Heaven and on Earth,” Castiel said, snuggling deeper into the other’s embrace.

They were silent for a long moment. “Dean?” Castiel whispered.

“Yeah?”

Castiel smiled. He found Dean’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm, then carefully curled all of his fingers around it. “Nothing,” he confessed. “I just like saying your name.”

A low, rumbling chuckle made its way through Dean’s chest and past his lips, and Castiel could feel the vibrations upon his back. “My angel,” he breathed.

  
“Yours.”


	9. Transient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters left to go! Let me know what you think!

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours to Castiel. The hands on the clock were crawling closer to midnight. Every so often, Castiel would let out a little whimper or a drawn-out moan, and start to writhe in Dean’s arms. The hunter settled him down each time this happened, soothing him with calming words and touches and helping him lie back down and relax.

“Soon,” Dean promised.

“Now,” Cas moaned. “Please.” He pressed his head into the pillow, and tried to rearrange himself in a more comfortable position to little avail. “Dean- I need-”

Dean smirked against Castiel’s shoulder blade, then rose up and straddled his angel. “Wings out,” Dean said, and Castiel’s body obeyed that simple command before his heat-addled mind had quite processed it.

His wings spilled out across the bed, manifesting themselves as soon as Castiel had unconsciously willed them to, and the feeling of Dean’s soft sheets across his sensitive feathers was enough to have Castiel bucking into Dean and writhing under him. “Please-”

“I’ve got you, angel,” Dean said, voice husky. “Gonna make you feel so good.” A wicked little grin found its way onto his lips. “Let’s see if I can get you to scream my name.”

Dean had had enough time to recover, and as he ran his hands through his angel’s wings, he marveled at how persistent the angel’s need had been throughout the night. He wondered whether or not Cas was capable of multiple orgasms outside of the time of Transit, but did not let himself kindle the flame of the hope that he would one day find out, and instead pushed his thoughts away.

“Dean,” Cas moaned. “Dean, please,” he whispered. “The heat-”

“If I make you come now, do you think you can still come from me fucking you?”

“Yes,” Cas chanted, like a mantra. “Yes, Dean, I-”

But whatever else he had to say was transformed into a wordless scream as Dean wrapped a slick hand around his cock. He hadn’t seen Dean reach for the lube, but it didn’t surprise him. The heat was peaking and he was drifting in and out of a state of consciousness where the need was all he knew, all he saw or felt or wanted. It was a state of totality, where nothing mattered but Dean and Dean’s hand and how good it felt when he pumped his hand just the right way, and how beautiful release would be.

“Faster,” he demanded. Mercifully, Dean obliged.

“Whatever you need, angel,” Dean whispered.

Their eyes met briefly, before Castiel was once more overwhelmed by the sensation – he felt nothing but pleasure, and the growing ache of his need, and the tiniest bit of pain. Dean was right; he would be sore in the morning, but it was all worth it, because he had everything he’d ever wanted right here in bed with him.

“Dean!” Castiel shouted out as he spilled into Dean’s hand, hot and sticky. Dean worked him through it, pumping his hand once, twice, thrice, before pulling away. He sobbed, half in pleasure, half at the loss of it. “I need you inside of me,” you growled, once his breathing grew slightly less ragged.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at him. “Already?”

The hunter’s eyes followed Castiel’s line of sight towards the bedside clock. “Midnight,” he said, voice reverent. “The heat is peaking. It’ll break sometime before dawn.”

Dean nodded. “I’m not sure how many more times I’m going to be humanly able to...” He gestured between them. The words had come so easily earlier, but now that an end was in sight, he couldn’t bring himself to speak them.

“I will take whatever you can give me. Nothing more,” Castiel assured him. He reached up to cup Dean’s face with his hand. “Please, Dean. I want you. I need you. I love you. And I won’t ask more of you than you can give.”

Smiling, Dean couldn’t help but thank the angel in a prayer for knowing exactly the right words to say. Castiel didn’t answer, but Dean could tell from the secret smile that curled its way onto his lips that he had heard.

“I love you too, angel,” Dean whispered. “And if you want me, I’m yours.”

He cast his eyes down, and picked up the bottle of lube. Slowly, he began to prepare Cas once more, ignoring the angel’s pleas for him to hurry and trying to make everything feel as good as possible for his angel. From the sounds of Castiel’s ragged breathing and occasional gasps and moans, it was working.

“Okay,” he announced, after a length of time that felt like it had been eternal to Castiel’s altered mind.

“Please,” Cas begged. “I need it, I need you- Dean...” His eyes widened as Dean positioned himself above him, and he spread his legs for better access. “Yes,” he hissed as Dean slid home. “Fuck. Oh! Oh...” He threw his head back at the feeling of fullness that pervaded his entire body and set each and every one of his nerve endings on fire. “More,” he demanded.

Dean couldn’t find the willpower to deny his angel, nor himself. The feeling of being inside Castiel was nothing short of divine, and he gave in to his own primal urges, and began to draw out, pushing back in almost immediately.

“So good,” he whispered. “Cas-”

The angel gasped as Dean’s cock found that place within him that made him see stars. “Right there,” Castiel panted.

“You like that?” Dean teased. Now that he had found that little bundle of nerves, he brushed it with each stroke. He found himself drawing close to completion sooner than he was expecting, so he reached between them and took Castiel in hand.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Castiel spoke. It sounded like a prayer, and Dean did his best to answer.

“I’m right here, angel. I’ve got you.”

Between the cock inside of him and the motions of Dean’s hands jerking him, Castiel knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Desperate, he pulled Dean down to kiss him, and the shift in their positions was enough to send him over the edge again as their lips met.

He came with a scream, wings flapping, body all but convulsing under Dean.

“That’s it, angel,” Dean said, soothing him through it. His rhythm faltered, and soon, he was coming too, eyes fluttering closed, hips stilling as he spilt deep within Castiel.

Dean pulled out and all but collapsed beside Castiel, though he was careful not to lean too heavily on the other’s wing.

Cas frowned. “Am I wearing you out?” He asked, concern coloring his voice.

“A little,” Dean chuckled. Seeing Castiel’s furrowed brow, he hastened to add, “I don’t mind.”

The angel sighed. “Sleep if you can,” he said. “The worst of it is over, now.”

The sound of sleeping beside Cas, cocooned in his wings, was too appealing to pass up on. “Will-” Dean paused. “Will you still be here? When I wake up?”

Cas smiled tenderly. “I know you too well, Dean Winchester. I know you won’t believe me until morning’s light, but I swear to you that I will stay. I will still be here when you awaken.”

Dean shrugged, suddenly feeling too vulnerable, naked as he was; having bared his heart and soul all night long as he had. He shivered, and Castiel responded by wrapping a gentle wing around him. “If you’re not-”

“I will be,” Cas insisted.

“But if you’re not,” Dean said, needing to say his piece, just in case he woke up to an empty bed and a sea of longing separating him and his angel once more. “I will always remember this night. And... If I never get another chance to say it, you’ve been the best part of my life for a long, long time, now.” He blinked back tears, only half-believing that Cas would still be there come morning. “Angel?”

Castiel closed his eyes. It hurt that Dean thought he’d leave, a sort of ragged, burning pain in the center of his being that he did his best to tamp down. “Yes?” He managed to say after several tries.

But Dean did not respond, and the sounds of rhythmic, peaceful breathing echoed around the room in lieu of an answer.


	10. Moonglade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively short chapter. You can expect the next and final one soon!

Castiel closed his eyes and tried to rest, but sleep did not come for quite some time. He let himself drift, his true form closer to the surface than it usually was.

He could feel the motions of the Heavens and of Earth, the tugging of the moon at the tides and the passage of Venus across the orbital plane of the only planet his Father had chosen to harbor human life – he’d put his most cherished creation on his most beloved world; the blue one marbled with green and white – a water world with forests and clouds and hurricanes and tsunamis and beauty and chaos.

He’d never claimed to understand his Father’s will, but for once, he was grateful that it had led him here. To Dean. To finding home in the hands of another.

He smiled when Dean cuddled closer to him in his sleep.

It briefly occurred to him that he should go watch the moonrise, as he did on most other nights. He’d been lonely, and the moon was a relatively constant companion on those long nights he’d spent, watching over their home like a sentinel.

But then he remembered that he was no longer alone, and quietly rejoiced.

_Besides_, he thought as he slowly drifted into slumber, _I have a promise to keep._


	11. Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! The last chapter. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
> 
> I loved writing this story, and am going to go reread it from the start now because I am a little sad it's over. Endings are hard, as we all know. 
> 
> A big shoutout to anyone and everyone who has read and kudo'd and commented. I am thankful to all of you who help inspire me to write!

The sun rose like an omen in the cloudless sky. Somewhere beyond the reinforced walls of the bunker, birds were singing out their greetings, and the cricket’s lament was growing quieter in the half-light. The wind rustled the trees, which threw long, lengthy shadows upon the sidewalk that would have seemed surreal, had there been anyone to see them, but the waking world was still too busy casting off the burden of slumber to notice much of anything.

A little after dawn, Castiel awakened to the music of Dean’s heart. He’d fallen asleep sometime just before 3, and found himself tangled in Dean’s arms.

He could tell from the way Dean’s breathing hitched every now and again that the other was awake, and the thought of him made his heart skip a beat. He was momentarily grateful that Dean’s hearing wasn’t as sensitive as his own.

Tentatively, he extricated himself from Dean’s embrace. The heat had broken. He smiled, despite the lingering fear that Dean would not wish for him to stay, that he’d turn around with wide eyes and an open heart only to find that everything had changed between them once more.

“Cas,” Dean spoke, voice rough from the activities of the night coupled with lack of sleep. He couldn’t find the words to say, ‘stay,’ but every inch of his soul sung out to Castiel, who found Dean’s hand and held it close to his heart.

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed at the motion.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, voice soft, gently brushing the back of his hand against the other’s cheek.

“You’re still here,” the hunter noted.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Castiel replied.

Their eyes met. There were oceans contained in that one gaze, from the seas of longing which had existed between them prior to last night to the boiling waters of their lust, calm now, in the aftermath, to the rivers of a need so deep that it had not nearly been slaked.

“Last night...” Dean started, unsure how to finish. It had been an ordeal and a revelation, an unanswered question and an enigma, a rapturous and torturous experience all rolled into one. He’d never wanted it to end.

“I know,” Castiel spoke.

Dean cleared his throat. He ran his mind through everything that had happened last night – let images of Castiel, writhing under him in ecstasy come unhindered to his mind. If Castiel could find the courage to make himself so very vulnerable, last night, surely he could find words for what he needed to say. “Stay?” He asked, voice timid despite the revelations of last night.

“For you?” Castiel questioned. Dean’s eyes went wide, and he leaned in to press a kiss to the other’s lips, silencing any questions he might have wished to ask in that moment. “Forever,” he answered.

“Forever,” Dean echoed, voice firm, assuaging any lingering doubts he found in his angel’s eyes. They both grinned, and found themselves leaning back into the warmth of the bed, Castiel snuggling into Dean as the hunter held him close.

And so it went. They had found lasting solace in one another. Dean had seen his soul mirrored in an angel, and Castiel had found his entire being singing a long and lilting love song upon seeing himself reflected in Dean’s soul.

There would still be demons to slay, both those that came from Hell and the smaller, subtler entities like guilt or greed or regret or a lust for revenge that took up residence in the minds of humankind. But they’d face them side-by-side, and together, the world would look brighter, and their hearts would be lighter, buoyant as they were with that most simple and profound of joys – that of love.


End file.
